Everette:
I'm not sure why I'm putting in so much effort to placate her fears. Especially when her fear tastes so good. I rub soothing circles on her back with one hand while the other keeps her face in place, so that she won't look away.
When she seems settled once more, I clutch onto her hips, pulling her closer again so that she's once more resting against my body. I delight in the warmth of her body against mine.
Something passes between our gazes, something unspoken, before I slowly pull her face towards mine so that I can kiss her again. I move far slower than I want to, nervous that I might scare her again. But as slowly as I try to go, the kiss is quickly deepened as it re-ignites the passion within her.
When her hands begin to wander once again, I take it as my cue to move forward. I pull her shirt over her head so that she's now sitting on my lap in her skirt and bra.
She looks needy and decadent and I'm overtaken by a primal desire to not only claim her as my prey with a bite, but to claim her in countless other ways, too.
As my fingers reach for the clasp on her back, my mouth moves down her neck, along her collarbone, peppering her skin with a trail of kisses until I reach her cleavage.
I'd laughed at the human men in the café for having ogled at her breasts, and yet here and now with them on display before me, I find myself sympathetic with them.
Tracing the line of her silk bra with my nose, I breathe in her scent, forcing myself not to rush. When the bra falls away, I'm left in awe at the sight that's before me.
Naturally, I want to bite her again. I want to dig my fangs into her nipple and make her scream. But I won't. Not yet.
Instead, I use the tip of my tongue to run a path around her left breast, spiralling in towards her nipple before sucking forcefully on it. The temptation to bite down is almost excruciating, especially when she lets out a loud, agonising moan.
My voice is hoarse when I tell her to stand up. She obeys immediately without hesitation and I get to my feet as well. She seems to know what I want as her hands go straight to my belt, beginning to unbuckle it.
I remove my shirt and then my trousers and boxers so that I'm standing naked before her.
She's quiet, not saying anything as she takes in the sight of my weeping cock. I'm not small. I don't think there's a vampire alive who is. Not that we make a habit of comparing measurements.
Lowering to my knees, I reach beneath her skirt to remove her knickers, and then I'm pulling her back down onto my lap, her skirt still on.
If I was human or a better man instead of the monster that I am, I'd ask her if this is what she wants. I'd give her a way out. I'd let her leave.
But I'm not and I have no intention of stopping even if she begs. I feel like I should warn her that yes; I am a vampire but unlike the Vampires in her storybooks, I'm not agonising over my own soul or the ethics of drinking her blood. I'm not looking for her to love me or hoping that she will somehow save me. I'm perfectly happy being the monster that I am.
What's worse, I am perfectly content with being her destruction; her undoing.
Her core is wet as my dick slides against it, impatient to be inside her. Using my hands on her hips, I encourage her to move, enjoying the friction and the electricity that runs through every single one of my nerves at her touch.
Then I lift her gently so that she's hovering over me before slowly bringing her back down so that my cock slowly stretches her. I hear the hiss of pain that escapes her lips, and in an attempt to distract her, I bite down on her lower lip, releasing a wave of endorphins into her system. Immediately, her body relaxes and the hiss of pain becomes more of a needy whimper.
This was never a part of my plan. I'd never intended to fuck her. My goal had always been her blood and yet now that I've drank from her veins, I know I'll never be able to quench my thirst for her, I'll never have enough.
I guide her movements, using my hands on her thighs, all the while thrusting into her quicker than a human ever could.
Her body is like a drug, much like her blood. One touch will never be enough. Clinging to her, I turn so that I now have her pinned beneath me on the couch, her thighs wide open for me.
Her fingernails dig into my skin as she claws at my back. I'm in a heady trance as I pound into her over and over again. She's lucky I don't bite her right now, because if I did, there's no way I'd be able to control myself.
I'd kill her for sure.
I'm so lost to the feelings and pleasures that her body inspires. She's driving me crazy, wrapping me up in a soft cocoon of pheromones and sensations.
Farah's back arches and I feel her tight walls begin to pulse, sucking me in deeper, almost claiming me the way I want to claim her. She lets out another of those soft, little whimpers before I feel her body give way to an orgasm.
Her eyes meet mine, seeing more of me than I think I want as my defences are lowered by the intoxication of impending climax.
I blink twice before saying, 'I'm going to bite you.'
I don't wait for her to consent. I don't care to hear her try to refuse. I know I'm a monster, but I couldn't give a flying fuck.